This morning, I poured myself a glass of almond milk—the same Earth’s Own unsweetened variety I’ve bought for years—and noticed something extraordinary. It tasted sweet.
Not the flat sweetness of added sugar, but a quiet, living sweetness that seemed to bloom on my tongue. A sweetness with depth, like the subtle shift in the air when winter finally loosens its grip.
I checked the carton again. No, still unsweetened. Still ordinary. Still the same creamy, dependable companion I’ve known for years.
But I’ve changed.
Since that day of profound healing—since I folded my healed five-year-old self into my adult consciousness like light into shadow—the world hums differently. My taste buds aren’t lying. They’re finally catching up to the rest of me.
The miracle isn’t the almond milk. The miracle is that I can finally feel.
That childhood wound, once so heavy, has transformed into something unexpected: a compass. My healed younger self—that brave little soul—now walks beside me, pointing out wonders I used to rush past. She shows me how to pause when sunlight catches in Solly’s fur just so. How to savour the particular music of my husband’s laugh. How to taste the universe in a sip of ordinary almond milk.
The intangible things vibrate louder now, amplified, recognized, embraced:
The way the grass presses cool and alive beneath my bare feet while the sun warms my skin—not just sensation, but communion.
The weight of my head on Solly’s belly, his steady breath syncing with the hum of bees—no longer just a moment, but a conversation.
Lunchtime walks through Centennial Park, my husband’s voice weaving stories and jokes while Solly trots ahead, his eager panting keeping time like a metronome of joy—not just routine, but ritual.
The deep, satisfying ache of muscles after a 10K run—not just fatigue, but a love letter from my body.
Is it Spring stretching the days longer, brighter? Or is it the quiet, seismic shift of a childhood wound finally knitting itself closed?
No. It’s more.
The world hasn’t changed.
My heart did.
And now, everything shimmers.